#ADMIRAL SQUISH SKIN#

When he brought her the bill, there was a key card hidden beneath her argento, which would be a few thousand credits shorter next time she checked her account. вЂњI could ask the same of you, Vaseline Dude.вЂќ She caught the bartenderвЂ™s cool gaze and nodded at him. вЂњAfter everything thatвЂ™s passed between you?вЂќ вЂњYouвЂ™d risk so much for the Time Humper?вЂќ he asked. She let the indigo tip of her tongue touch the straw first not very subtle, but subtlety was his job, not hers. His gelatinous gaze fixed on her lips as they wrapped around the straw of her drink. Later, after theyвЂ™d infiltrated the field camp of the bioengineering company that created them and taken it over from within, the universal powers that be realized that their ability to shift and morph could have other, more lucrative, uses.

#ADMIRAL SQUISH SKIN#

Their paraffin-laced skin was perfect protection against the elements that had plagued other species. Petrolisians werenвЂ™t exactly aliens theyвЂ™d been genetically engineered to work the dry, windblown terra of Mars. The manвЂ™s clothing was standard for a Petrolisian: The special material clung to the hydrocarbonates in his skin, meaning it was as malleable as he was. If she had to fuck a walking oil slick to get what she wanted, at least she wouldnвЂ™t smell like a urinal after. SheвЂ™d shared her body with worse men than him - she hadnвЂ™t discovered her model of robodoll was pee-proof by accident. She turned to the man slowly, schooling her features so they wouldnвЂ™t show the revulsion he induced in her. If IвЂ™d known all it took to get a date with you was smuggling info from the Intergalactic Data Bank, I wouldвЂ™ve done it years ago.вЂќ She heard the squish of petroleum in Federation-issued gravity boots - the obscene sound triggering a grasping need between her thighs - before a thick, burbling voice slicked into her eardrums. Just thinking of the others who shared in RodcockerвЂ™s bifurcated pleasure made her head pound harder than a botched temporal leap. It didnвЂ™t matter that his lovers were in different dimensions. She was dolled up like one of the space stationвЂ™s Pleasure District girls and about to trade her body for information meanwhile, he was probably two cocks deep in one, or several, of his women. Even now she carried out a mission at the Time HumperвЂ™s bequest. If not even the purest soul in the universe could break Space Admiral RodcockerвЂ™s hold on her, she was well and truly lost. Gilly had told her that, and Gilly didnвЂ™t lie.Д®dwina gave a bitter laugh as she raised the fermented glucose to her lips.

There were 59, if he really wanted to know. The Kuiperian bartender must have counted every freckle dusted across her ample bosom with those cloudy blue eyes of his. The eyes of the group of Saturnine miners stretched on their stalks in her direction, like she was the last bit of sun before the sulfur clouds moved in. Time Hump Chronicles, Chapter 3: вЂњVaseline DudeвЂќД®veryone in the cantina was staring at Edwina.

Ooh, I donвЂ™t know why, but that shit was hot вЂ¦ but also tragic.вЂќ вЂњ I just want to say, IвЂ™m also on Team Rodcocker, but I like that dude you introduced in chapter three who was made of Vaseline. Note: This is a piece of erotic fiction! It may not be suitable for work. Vulture commissioned erotic and historical-romance writer Alyssa Cole to give us a taste of what the big fuss is all about. вЂњCrazy EyesвЂќ) writes a sci-fi erotica series, Time Hump Chronicles, that becomes a massive hit among a contingent of women at Litchfield. In season three of Orange Is the New Black, Suzanne (a.k.a.

Admiral squish